Swelter
by whootsies
Summary: Craig needs help moving into his new apartment; his new neighbor Rick lends a hand. Problem is, the heat's really starting to get to Craig...  Humanized AU.


The heat seemed to have a very strange effect on Craig.

He sat perched on the steps of the apartment complex, almost not bothering to conceal his staring at his new neighbor as he hoisted a side table up to waist height and eased it down the truck's ramp; it was actually rather hard not to stare at the dark hair that clung to his face with sweat, the defined muscles that rippled beneath the skin —

"Craig?" Rick shifted his weight so he balanced the table on one hand and knee, using the other hand to wave in front of Craig's face. "You in there?"

Craig shook his head and muttered a somewhat dumb-sounding, "What?"

Rick raised an eyebrow and offered a lop-sided grin. "Are you gonna grab something?"

Craig blinked and wiped a bit of the sweat off his forehead, and jumped up from the steps. "Yeah, yeah, I'm going."

He could hear Rick's deep chuckle as he continued inside. Craig picked up a medium sized box and began piling a few more little boxes on top, cursing this wretched heat. He sincerely hoped it wouldn't be this hot again any time soon.

He made his way up the two flights of stairs, noticing that it was no cooler inside than it was outside. As he stepped into his new apartment, he set the boxes down next to the door.

"Why is it hot in here, too?" Craig sighed with exasperation and plopped down in one of the chairs they had moved up. "Isn't the air conditioning on?"

Rick smiled almost apologetically. "It just gave out this mornin'. They're fixin' it, they say. I wouldn't expect any more trouble after this." He paused for a moment and pulled his dark hair back with one hand. "Of course, it gives out in ninety-five degree weather."

Craig opened his mouth to reply, but his voice caught in his throat as Rick began to peel off his now soaking dark green t-shirt, leaving only a white tank top that clung to his form. Something metallic jangled, and Craig noticed for the first time that he was wearing dog tags.

He swallowed hard. This heat definitely did something strange to him.

Their eyes locked for a moment, before Rick smiled awkwardly. "You're spacin' out again."

Craig quickly looked in the other direction, and mumbled something about not being used to this type of weather.

"Let's go get some more stuff," Rick threw his shirt on the counter and motioned for Craig to follow.

They made a few trips carrying boxes and smaller furniture, saving the large furniture for last. For which Craig would need to help carry up those stupid stairs, he noted with a visible frown. Rick was already rummaging about in the back of the trailer, and Craig stood just outside waiting for instructions.

Eventually, the irritating sound of cloth scraping against metal grated against Craig's ears; Rick was pushing the mattress forward. He heard Rick take a breath, before calling out, "Can you get on the other side of this?"

Craig obliged, bracing himself and slipping his hands under the bottom edge. He took a deep breath, and with as much strength as he could muster, lifted it as high as he could, which was around mid-thigh. It lasted for all of three seconds before his fingers buckled and slipped and the mattress crashed back down to the floor with a resounding thud.

Rick walked around the mattress, holding it up with one hand on one side. "You're gonna kill your back liftin' like that. First, get a good grip on it."

Craig's face was already flushed from the heat, but it grew a bit redder with slight embarrassment at his own ignorance. He complied, firmly grasping the bottom edge once again. Rick placed his free hand on Craig's lower back, making him flinch; his hand had pushed his sweater up a little, and Rick's touch was uncomfortably hot against his sweat chilled skin. He pushed down lightly. "Now, bend your knees a little."

Craig bent his knees slightly, trying to focus on anything else besides the contact, the criss-cross pattern of the cloth on the mattress, his glasses slipping down his face, the echo of Rick's voice —

"Lift with your back, not your knees, mmkay?" Rick gave him a small reassuring pat. He left for the other side, and Craig released a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding.

They counted to three and lifted simultaneously. It was almost a comical sight, Rick holding his end like it was nothing, and Craig nearly dragging his on the ground. They managed, however, with Craig bumping into the the handrail of the stairs enough times to leave a bruise on his upper thigh, to maneuver the mattress into the apartment. As soon as it was in the door, Craig collapsed to his knees panting heavily and watching the few beads of sweat drip off his forehead and onto the wood floor. He heard the soft thump of the mattress as it hit the floor, and a small laugh from Rick's direction.

Craig looked up to see Rick offering his hand to help him up. After another moment to catch his breath, he tried to suppress the grateful smile that tugged at his lips as he grasped him and struggled to his feet.

"Thanks," he mumbled.

"No problem."

Craig cleared his throat. "I mean, thanks for everything. Helping me move and… all."

"Well," Rick shrugged. "I thought you might need some help. You don't exactly seem the type to haul furniture."

Craig noticed that their hands were still clasped together. "Oh, uh – " he quickly retracted his hand, rubbing it lightly before distracting himself with the hem of his sweater.

"But, ya' know," he continued with a playful grin. "You may not be able to lift worth a damn, but your looks more than make up for that."

Craig's mind was usually very sound, but this infernal heat had a way of clouding his thoughts and making him say and do weird things. He didn't know what possessed him, but in a rush of confidence, he grabbed the metal chain that hung from Rick's neck, yanked him down almost to his level, and closed the gap between them in a chaste and almost harsh kiss.

The smell and taste of perspiration flooded his senses. He became painfully aware of his own heat, however, and pulled away with a slight gasp for air.

Craig swallowed, mentally slapping himself for doing such a stupid thing; Rick was in all likelihood straight and probably had some hot girlfriend. Goddamn, why did that air conditioner have to go out —

" I really shouldn't have… I'm sorry…" Craig babbled, shaking his head. He tried to back away, but was held firmly in place by Rick's arms wrapped tightly around his waist.

"Don't be," Rick said in a low voice. He leaned forward and captured the smaller man's lips, inciting a slightly surprised sound from him.

After the initial shock, Craig's hands snaked upwards, wrapping around his neck; he had to stand on the tips of his toes to reach Rick. Rick's hands were pushing up the back of his sweater, making Craig shiver slightly at the return of the warm touch from before.

He broke away from the kiss for a second. "You really shouldn't wear things like this in this weather," Rick mumbled, fumbling with the material of his shirt. "You'll get heat stroke or somethin'."

Craig's mouth cracked into a smile, and he allowed Rick to pull it up over his head, mussing up his hair and skewing his glasses. Rick tossed the sweater somewhere over his shoulder, and moved to Craig's neck, running his tongue along his jugular, lapping up a few tiny beads of sweat that had come to rest there. Craig tilted his head, giving him more access, and panted softly.

Rick grabbed a hold of Craig's hips, then almost fell back onto the mattress, leaning back on his elbows and pulling the smaller man into his lap. Somewhere in Craig's mind, he knew the neighbors must have heard the noise, but that didn't matter one bit at the moment. He let his hand run under his tank top, brushing against the tense muscles of his abdomen.

With their groins pressed together, Craig bit his lip and experimentally ground his hips against Rick's, who threw his head back and gave a low groan. Pleased with the results, he ground a bit harder, the friction of the cloth only adding to the sensation. After a moment Rick pulled himself up in one swift motion, and expertly began undoing Craig's belt and slacks; Craig lifted himself up, letting Rick yank his pants and boxers down to just below his ass. Rick undid his own jeans and pulled them down a bit farther. Placing a hand on the small of Craig's back, Craig reached behind him and grabbed Rick's now exposed cock, giving it one quick stroke and brushing it up against his entrance before slowly, very slowly pushing it into himself.

His face contorted in a flash of pain, and Rick moved his hands to hips, but didn't push him any faster. Feeling a twinge of sympathy, Rick pressed their lips together before asking, "You alright?"

Craig breathed a yes, grabbing Rick's shoulders for leverage. When he was , he rolled his hips slightly, trying to adjust to the sensation. After a pain subsided he rolled his hips again, making them both shudder with an almost simultaneous moan. He took an audible breath and lifted himself off Rick's cock before almost crashing back down. Craig's fingernails nearly dug into Rick's skin, but he didn't seem to mind and encouraged Craig to continue with an upward shift of his hips.

Craig repeated the motion with more confidence, whimpering at the shock of pleasure that ran up his spine. He pressed up against Rick, the hot metal of the dog tags nearly burning his skin. Rick was nearly pounding into him, each thrust building the pressure inside him.

Rick was moaning Craig's name, and he removed one hand from his hip to stroke Craig's cock. Craig lasted only a few more minutes before the growing tension inside him snapped and he came into Rick's hand, nearly screaming as his entire body tensed around Rick's arousal. With another hard thrust and a loud groan, Rick finished.

Craig limply leaned against Rick, giving himself time to catch his breath before slowly lifting himself off and plopping back down onto the bare mattress next to him.

A few loud thuds followed by a whoosh of air interrupted the peaceful quiet.

"Sounds like they fixed the air conditioner," Craig said, looking up towards the vent and silently thanking whatever god may have existed.

Rick's face suddenly twisted into a frown.

"What's wrong?"

He looked over at Craig. "Ya' know, we still have stuff to bring up."

Craig's hand slapped against his own forehead, and cursed under his breath for not waiting until after they had finished moving the furniture. He quickly jumped up and pulled his pants up, fumbling with the zipper, buttons, and buckles. "Our timing is just _wonderful_, isn't it?"

Rick laughed, and Craig found himself smiling like a loon.

But he still hated this wretched heat.


End file.
